


Mama's Listening

by TheArtisticIntrovert



Series: Mama [1]
Category: Tattletail (Video Game)
Genre: this was supposed to be short rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtisticIntrovert/pseuds/TheArtisticIntrovert
Summary: Because any mother worth her salt would investigate chanting in the basement at 2 am.





	

Mikey always wanted a friend. His siblings (twins, Kathy and Jonas) were both  _ years  _ older than him, neither having time for their baby brother, not after they hit highschool. The kids at school thought he was weird, thought he wasn’t ‘all there’. He wanted someone he could talk to, share snacks with, and play with when nobody else was home. He wanted someone to care about, and someone to care about  _ him.  _

 

He’d honestly resigned himself to never having that close companionship, when it happened. His mom, who’d been working double shifts for the last three weeks, hinted that his dream might come true on Christmas, if he believed and didn’t give up on that wish. For days, he’d been too excited to sleep, especially after she’d hinted his wish would come true under the lights of the tree.

 

He’d never considered himself a  _ bad  _ kid, just......direct. He saw the path from Point A to Point B, and he didn’t understand why people did everything in their power to  _ avoid  _ that path, when life would be so much  _ simpler  _ if they just stayed on it. It was this thought process that led him to the basement the night of the 20th, creeping cautiously on socked feet downstairs, careful not to even  _ breathe  _ near his mom’s room, for fear he’d wake her up.

 

He trailed his hand along the wall, feeling the bumps and grooves in the concrete absently as he tried to remember which twisting path led to the utility room that Mom usually stored the gifts in. Eventually he found it, biting back a muffled yelp when he bumped his toe on an abandoned office chair sitting by the doorway. Distracted by the pain, he nearly didn’t notice the giant, polka-dotted box in the back of the room. When he managed to blink away the tears, however, his face nearly lit up with hope.

 

He practically raced across the room, carefully tearing open the paper and setting the lid aside. Inside the box, there was another box, this one not wrapped. He pulled it out, absently waving his arm behind him and pulling the chair closer. He sat down, wincing at the loud squeak it made, before looking at the second box.

 

_ “BABY TALKING TATTLETAIL!”  _

_ “Feed him, brush him, play with him!”  _

_ “He really eats!”  _

 

was printed on the box in big, bold letters. Mikey’s breath caught in his throat, a disbelieving smile spreading across his face as he touched the plastic front with shaky hands.

 

“No way....” he whispered, opening the box carefully. He pulled out Tattletail, petting the soft tuft on top of its head gently. He nearly fell out of the chair when its eyes opened suddenly, scaring the crap out of him.

 

“Hello friend! What’s yo-o-our name?” it asked, voice stuttering in the middle. Mikey laughed, going back to petting the tuft.

 

“I’m Mikey!” he said, quiet, but still no less cheerful. Tattletail seemed to smile, its lower lids raising a bit as it gave a mechanical approximation of a laugh.

 

“Me Tattletail! Me lo-o-o-ove yo-ou!”

 

\--

 

He would’ve been content to leave Tattletail alone until Christmas, to wrap it back up and pretend to be surprised. Except, the guilt was eating him alive. At breakfast, he could barely eat, and he kept thinking about poor Tattletail, locked away in that dark box in the cold basement, all alone with nobody to talk to.

 

That night, Mikey was going to just ignore it and try and get even a few hours of  _ bad  _ sleep, when he was startled awake by a loud clanking noise. He winced, slipping out of bed and grabbing his Waygetter Green on the way into the hallway. He glanced at his mom’s door, still as silent and still as ever, before following the noise. He hoped whatever it was, it wouldn’t be an expensive problem to fix. He knew that Talking Tattletails were expensive, and his mom didn’t need anymore stress.

 

He sighed when he was, once again, at the basement door. “What is it with me and basements lately?” he muttered sardonically, shaking his head and pushing the door open. He shook his flashlight quickly, charging it fully before even setting one toe on the stairs. He headed down, shoving down the instinctual fear of the dark as he crept through the basement, shaking his light periodically. The noise was louder now, leading him to the laundry room right across from the entrance. He shone his light into the room, stopping dead at what he saw.

 

Tattletail was there, sitting on top of the running dryer.

 

The dryer wasn’t the problem. Kathy always did her laundry on Mondays, has been ever since she started on the baseball team back in ninth grade. No, the problem was the fact that he  _ distinctly remembered  _ wrapping Tattletail back up, had been stressing out over it all day today.

 

He walked forward dazedly, flashlight drifting down until it was at his side, the rapidly weakening beam pointed at the floor. He picked up Tattletail, staring down at it. “How...?” he whispered, pressing his lips together tightly and shaking his head, his shaggy brown hair smacking him lightly in the face with the force of it. He shook his flashlight again, bringing the light level back up to something humans could see in. “That’s not important. Gotta get you back in the box, or Mom’ll freak,” he said, half to himself, and half to Tattletail. It blinked up at him, slowly.

 

“Ma-a-ama?” it asked, voice crackly and broken. Mikey shrugged, dodging a pile of boxes.

 

“My mama, buddy. I don’t know where your Mama is. Do you even  _ have  _ a mama?” he mused, slipping past the chair to the opened box. He laughed softly when he saw it, realizing what the problem was. While he had rewrapped Tattletail, he’d just put the lid back on and sat the bow on top, he didn’t retie the red ribbon.  ~~_ He very pointedly ignored how he’d also put Tattletail back in its original packaging. _ ~~

 

“I’m sca-a-ared of the da-ar-rk....” Tattletail muttered, something in its voice twisting at Mikey’s heart. He smiled helplessly, setting Tattletail back on the table.

 

“I know buddy, but it’s only for a day. I’ll be back tomorrow night, I promise! We can play lots then, okay? I just gotta wrap you back up now, or I won’t be able to see you again for a long,  _ long  _ time,” he said, patting Tattletail’s head and ignoring the feeling of how ridiculous it was to be comforting a toy. Tattletail laughed again, kind of. It didn’t say anything else though, so Mikey assumed it was out of battery and put it back in the box.

 

When all was said and done, he still felt...... _ bad.  _ He turned and looked at the present box again, just as immaculate as he’d found it, save a few scuffed corners. Feeling a little silly, he waved at the box, before quickly heading back to bed, ears burning.

 

\--

 

Mikey was starting to get  _ really  _ tired of waking up to weird noises in the middle of the night. This time, instead of the clunking of the dryer, it was some sort of grinding noise, like the kind the garbage disposal makes when he accidentally leaves a spoon in it. He sighed, slipping out of bed and padding to the door, scooping his flashlight off of the desk and heading, once again, for the basement. Almost immediately, he was greeted with the sight of Tattletail, once again out of the box. This time, he  _ (he? it’s a toy????)  _ was sitting on an end table next to his dad’s old armchair.

 

Mikey frowned, picking it up again. “Okay, I  _ know  _ I closed the box this time. How the heck did you get out....?” he murmured, absently smoothing down the tuft of fur. Tattletail giggled, eyes lighting up.

 

“Mike-e-e-ey! I fo-o-ound Mama!” it said cheerfully, turning its head in the direction of a dark, creepy alcove next to the stairs. Mikey blinked, frowning.

 

“In there?” he asked. Tattletail just laughed, chittering at him until he shook the light, heading for the alcove. Inside, he found a lump under an old sheet, an old fridge, and like five empty ketchup bottles. He pulled the sheet off, recoiling back when it uncovered a brown, egg-shaped Tattletail, this one almost as big as he was.

 

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” Tattletail cheered, eyes flashing. Mikey glanced nervously at ‘Mama’, shushing Tattletail. He opened the fridge, reluctant to take his eyes off of Mama, but wanting to see what was inside.

 

He pulled out a VHS tape, dusty with age and disuse. He raised an eyebrow, looking around for a player, before finding a slot in Mama’s chest. “No way.....really?” he muttered, furrowing his brows. He shrugged, popping it in. Thing was broken anyway, right?

 

Apparently not. Mama’s eyes snapped open, and her head started turning from side to side, like she was looking out over a sea of children. Mikey got an uneasy feeling, but settled down on the cold floor anyway. “The children thought Mama would never find them, as long as she couldn’t see them.” Okay, so it’s story time apparently. “Turn the page.” He frowned, raising an eyebrow. There wasn’t a book here though..... He shrugged, electing to ignore it. “But Mama could still  _ hear  _ the children. The pitter-patter of their little feet led Mama right to them.” Yikes. “Turn the page.” Mikey turned a page of an imaginary book in his head, watching Mama with a bemused expression, hugging Tattletail loosely to his chest. “Then Mama found the children, every last one, and put them right back to bed.”

 

A cold chill ran down Mikey’s spine, fear clawing at his throat. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be scared of her. She was just a toy. She couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t even move from her spot in the basement.

 

Then he remembered that Tattletail kept getting out of his box somehow.

 

He swallowed, looking down, only to realize Tattletail was gone. He gasped, scrambling to his feet and grabbing his flashlight. He ran to the stairs, hearing chittering laughter from upstairs. He followed it, paling slightly when he noticed all the trash and pillows thrown everywhere. He threw a furious look in Tattletail’s direction, quickly scooping all the trash back in the can and putting the pillows back. He grabbed Tattletail, keeping a firmer grip this time.

 

“Take me to see Mama?” it asked, voice loud in the stillness. Mikey flinched, glancing at the hallway to his mom’s bedroom.

 

“Alright sure, but you gotta shhh!” he whispered, patting Tattletail’s head and heading back down to the basement. He shook the flashlight, heading for the alcove, only to stop dead.

 

Mama was gone.

 

\--

 

He wasn’t sure why he was awake this time. Logically, he should still be sleeping. There weren’t any weird noises, he didn’t have to use the bathroom, and he wasn’t even all that thirsty! (Maybe a little hungry, but that was beside the point.) He frowned, staring at his ceiling in the darkness, trying to place where the wakefulness had come from. He sighed, giving it up as a lost cause.

 

Maybe some fresh air would help. He slid out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and grabbing his light again, heading for the backyard. Once outside, he heard what sounded like a conversation, coming from the garage. He frowned, dropping into a crouch and moving stealthily, bare feet barely making a sound in the grass.

 

He shook his light quickly and pointed it inside the garage, relaxing when he saw what the noise was. It was only Tattletail.......and.......Tattletail? He frowned, walking in and crouching down next to them. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking between the two. Yellow Tattletail giggled, its voice somehow higher than his Tattletail’s.

 

“Hide and Seek! Play with me!” it said excitedly. Mikey raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. Might as well, it’s not like he was getting any sleep anyway. Part of him still worried about Mama, but she was probably out of battery now, so he’d be fine. 

 

Probably.

 

\--

 

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” Mikey groaned, rolling over and pawing blindly at his alarm. Except the noise didn’t stop. He scowled, sitting up and looking over at his desk, eyes widening when he saw Tattletail. “You’re up! C’mon, we’re throwing a party for Mama! Come help us!” it said. Mikey frowned.

 

“Party?” he asked, voice hoarse and groggy. Tattletail didn’t elaborate, and he sighed, sliding out of bed and shivering, padding over to the desk and picking him up. He once again grabbed the flashlight, padding out of his room and being extra careful when passing his mom’s room. She was always a light sleeper on Christmas Eve, in order to deter any of them opening their presents early. A smile twisted at his lips, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d gotten one over on her.

 

He headed for the basement, placing Tattletail on his charging station in the middle of the room. There were four chairs sat around it, a Yellow Tattletail sitting in one, and a Blue Tattletail in another. He blinked, looking at the other chairs. “Are there supposed to be more of you?” he asked. Yellow Tattletail chittered, lower lids closing.

 

“Tree-e-e!” it said, voice crackling. Mikey yawned, nodding. He shook his light, carefully keeping it pointed at the floor as he crept upstairs. Under the tree was a present, wrapped just like his Tattletail had been. He was about to open it, but remembered Mama, and decided not to. She didn’t seem to like noise, and the Tattletails were just  _ full  _ of noise. (It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it had tried to sell him out last night, he thought firmly. Nothing at all.)

 

He headed back to the basement with the box, waiting until he was back in the main room to open it. He pulled out the Yellow Tattletail, sitting it next to its twin. It gave him a sullen stare, almost a glare, but didn’t say anything. Mikey swallowed, turning to the Blue Tattletail.

 

It seemed to be laughing, if the positioning of its eyelids were anything to go by. When it finally stopped, Mikey looked at it expectantly. “Garage!” it said cheerfully, blinking at him. Mikey groaned, but nodded anyway, shaking his light and heading outside through the cellar door on the other side of the room. He flinched when he saw two red lights, throat seizing up as he moved as quickly as he dared to the garage.

 

He nearly heaved a sigh of relief when he saw another present box, only his fear of Mama hearing him stopping him. He picked up the box, creeping out of the garage and hightailing it back to the basement. He opened the box, setting the Blue Tattletail on the last remaining chair before looking back at his Tattletail. “Give me a treat!” it said, a sentiment echoed by the other Tattletails. He sighed, but nodded, shaking the light and heading for the kitchen. He spotted a plate of cupcakes on the table, glancing behind him warily before taking the entire plate back to the basement with him.

 

He couldn’t help but feel this was going  _ too  _ well. Where’s Mama? He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. She was probably biding her time, waiting for him to let his guard down. He sighed, heading back to the Tattletail party and giving each toy a cupcake, taking one for himself as well. They made noises of contentment, one of the Blue Tattletails even going so far as to burp, the loud noise causing Mikey to flinch. “So, what now? We sit in a dark basement and wait for Mama?” he asked, only barely keeping the acid out of the sarcasm. Getting angry wouldn’t do anything, even if he was cranky about waking up this early.

 

“Candles! It’s da-a-ark!” said one of the Yellow Tattletails. Mikey nodded, glancing back at the stairs. He saw some on the hall table.....

 

“Matches too?” he asked. When they all agreed, he stood up and stretched. “Alright then. Be right back.” He slipped out of the basement, locating a bunch of red pillar candles on the table, right where he thought they’d be. He made a pouch with his oversized nightshirt, scooping all the candles into it before carefully opening the drawer and pulling out the matches, closing it gently and glancing at his mom’s door. No movement.

 

He headed back to the basement, nearly dropping the candles when he saw what the Tattletails had done in his absence.

 

Somehow, they’d gotten into the decoration box, making a pentagram out of some spare Christmas lights. Each Tattletail was sat at a different point of the star, and a familiar VHS was in the middle of the circle. Drawing on what little he knew from movies he wasn’t supposed to be watching yet, Mikey sat a candle at the tip of each point of the star, lighting each one as he went. They flared with life, and the Tattletails started chanting, loud enough that he knew it had to reach upstairs.

 

The lights flickered, dying out suddenly and leaving the room lit only by the pentagram on the floor. The Tattletails never stopped their chant, but they did look at him pleadingly(?). He nodded, shaking his flashlight and searching the basement for the candles. He found them in various pots, and was just about to return to the circle when his light died, a horrible grinding noise coming from behind him.

 

His spine stiffened, and he very carefully edged behind a wall, peeking out only when the grinding died away. He raced to the circle again, quickly placing and relighting the candles. The VHS started floating, and he found himself joining in on the chanting, the energy infectious. He reached out for the tape, almost acting on autopilot, plucking it out of the air. The chanting grew even louder, more frenzied, reaching a crescendo as he slammed the tape down on his knee, snapping it in half with a wild-eyed look on his face.

 

All went silent, the candles blowing out just as the tape broke. The only sound was his own breathing, panting, like he’d just run a marathon. Then, the basement light clicked on, nearly blinding him with its intensity.

  
“Mikey? What the heck are you  _ doing  _ this late?”

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more tattletail fic idk man


End file.
